


Just A Whisper

by alex4968



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Hauntings, M/M, Paranormal investigator Harry, Prince Louis, Royalty, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex4968/pseuds/alex4968
Summary: Strange things have happened around the castle since Louis was young. No one has ever been able to explain them and they've long since gone ignored. As the hauntings become more frequent, Louis finally reaches his last straw and calls a professional to help him.





	Just A Whisper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suspendrs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspendrs/gifts).



A particularly loud crack from the fireplace fills the parlor as Louis turns the page in his book. It doesn’t startle him like it once would have, but rather the sound is soothing, just as the heat coming from the fireplace feels against his skin. He’s comfortable, sitting in the silence of the parlor as he takes the time to clear his head, to spend time on his own and in peace. 

A soft glow shines throughout the room, completing the serene surroundings for an evening in, for an evening where Louis can simply ignore the responsibilities he knows he soon will need to tend to. But for now, he ignores them and allows himself these short moments of bliss. Being a prince requires every moment of his attention, every ounce of his energy, and even more beyond that. Many times, he finds his escape only in moments like this, when he’s able to retreat somewhere that eyes aren’t on him, where expectations aren’t sitting heavy upon shoulders that are unable to bear the weight.

Falling into the world of creatures slain and hearts filled has always been his favorite pastime – living in a life of adventure and prosperity that is similar yet so very different to his own. He connects with the prosperity, with the wealth, but he has never once connected to the extreme sense of adventure that fills the lives of the characters he reads through the book. Even just a fraction of the adventure the people in his novels experience would be better than the mundane repetition that fills his everyday life.

Three candles adorn the table closest to the small lounge chair where he’s relaxing, enjoying his evening, lighting up the remaining parts of the room around him that the fireplace did not light. The parlor has always been an area of peace within the palace for Louis – a place where he can seek out refuge from the hectic day to day life that being a prince brings. The only other place that brings him the feeling he gets from this room is the library. The two rooms where he’s able to indulge in the only hobby he’s found himself so passionate about for his entire life. Even when he was a child, being told to do readings of the past, being told to do readings of the law, he would always find himself choosing to do readings for pleasure, instead.

His eyes slowly start to become heavy as he continues read, but he turns another page before he tucks a small piece of burlap into where he’d left off on and pushes the book back into it’s rightful place on the shelf. Amongst hundreds of others, he’s made his way through three of the seven shelves that line the parlor in novels. All he hopes to accomplish before he becomes king is to finish the remaining.

But for this evening, there is little more he can do and even less that he feels his mind can handle, so he puts out the flames on each of the candles and calls a servant to put out the fire in the fireplace, before he exits the room.

“Good evening, my prince.” His valet says as he walks through the kitchen. The man, Niall, is young, only a year Louis’ senior, just having taken the position from his mother when she became too frail to handle the position and turned to the position of a seamstress instead. They’d grown up together, and despite what Louis would consider a long-lasting friendship between the two of them, there has been little room for anything except formalities when within the walls of the castle. “Would you like a bath prepared for you this evening before dinner?”

“Yes, I would. Thank you.” He says softly, retreating to his room with a soft sigh.

He’s not sure why he’s suddenly fallen so tired, feeling almost as if all of the energy in his body has been drained, but he sees no harm in taking the rest of the evening to relax and he wants nothing more than to return to bed early tonight, perhaps to wake early enough in the morning to resume the duties he’s neglected for the evening.

He settles into the bath as soon as it’s drawn, allowing himself to savor the warmth of the water as it covers his skin, lavender scent from the oils infused in the water sticking to him just as much.

Small purple flower petals float about in the water, adding a bit of a soft scent that he hopes will add to the scent of the oils. He lays back against the ceramic of the basin, closing his eyes and breathing away all of the negativity he’s felt throughout the day, allowing himself to exhale any stress that has accumulated beneath his skin since he awoke this morning.

He allows himself to sit in the warmth of the water a while longer, relaxing and falling into the comfort, before a maid comes to his door and tells that dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.

Once he gets out of the water and dresses, he makes his way to the dining room.

“Good evening, son.” His father says as they all sit down together. His father sits at the head of the table as he always has, with his mother beside him on the right, and himself on the left. It’s a tradition Louis hadn’t often paid attention to until his age came closer to that of becoming the king himself.

“Good evening, father, mother.” He says, tilting his head in respect.

“There is something I would like to discuss with you this evening.” His father begins as the food is brought out by a small scurry of their maids. “There is tension between us and the Scottish. Your mother and I will be travelling to them to discuss a treaty and will be away for a month.”

“Alright.” He says, nodding. It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before. One of the more often happenings of a king, he’s learned, is less ruling of his people and more of keeping the peace between other nations.

“We will be leaving tonight, so please be sure to keep everything in check while we are gone.”

“Of course, Father. Nothing will go wrong.”

The night goes on as usual, but something has left Louis feeling more weary and tired than he has in a long time. It’s almost as if all of the energy in his body has been drained and he doesn’t want to go on anymore. They finish their supper together before the table is cleared and they all clear away to their respective rooms.

“We are leaving now, my love.” His mother steps into his room to say a short time later. “We will see you soon.” He nods his response and gives a smile before she leaves, closing the door behind herself and leaving him to himself.

He falls asleep shortly after.

 

 

The sun is high in the sky when he wakes the following morning. His curtains are drawn back and sun streams in in long, bright beams that illuminate the entirety of the room. Large windows line the expanse of the east wall of his room, showing the sun rise in its true glory. He stretches out against the soft material of his bed, listening to each knock and pop of his joints in his body as he gets ready to wake fully and start his day.

He sighs softly, taking a few deep breaths to focus and prepare himself for the morning ahead. He’s not meant to be awake yet, but finding himself conscious before the rest of his staff is told to come and wake him is a rare occasion that he’s always found himself enjoying. It gives him a few moments to prepare himself for the day, to think of what he needs to accomplish and the things that he can push aside and not worry for.

He watches the way the sky changes colors in front of him and lets himself smile softly. These quiet times in the morning are what bring him the most peace. He rarely gets long moments to just be alone with his thoughts without the ever-looming thought of having things to do over his head, so he allows himself to soak it in.

The time ends before he is entirely ready for it to, but when Niall knocks on his door and brings in the tray with his tea sitting on it, he sits up and lets the beginning of his day wash over him.

When he returns to the parlor, feet dragging on the ground, the book is no longer on the shelf, but rather on the side table nearest where he’d sat the previous night. Thinking nothing of it, he picks it up and returns to his bedroom.

 

 

 

 

It’s quiet in the library as he takes a drink of his tea and settles into the silence. With his parents gone for the time being, he’s not sure what he’s meant to do or what he’s expected to do. He knows there are certain things he’s meant to do around the castle, but he spends most of his days shadowing his father and learning about the duties he’ll be performing as king.

He’s certain that his parents left some kind of task list with the staff for him to complete, but that sounds entirely less interesting than sitting in the parlor and reading, so he’s decided to avoid them for as long as he can.

Niall has been trying to find him for most of the day and he knows that his entire staff that’s meant to watch after him is likely stressed, but he can’t help but not worry about it. The fireplace spreads enough warmth through the room to make him comfortable, and the soft surface of the chair has him nearly drifting off to sleep.

He closes his eyes just for a moment when a the sound of glass breaking suddenly spreads through the entire room.

He jumps at the sound and stares at the shards of glass that litter the small rug, eyebrows drawn down. The milk container he’d brought for his tea lays broken on the floor, the liquid inside spilled on the expensive material beneath it. His heart is beating just slightly faster than it usually does, and he jumps again when the dish that the now-broken container had been sitting on gets knocked off of the table as well, flying across the room and shattering against the wall.

Small little instances of doors opening or things being moved have happened throughout much of his life, but so far, this has been the worst of his experiences with anything he could consider … paranormal.

He swallows hard, takes a deep breath, and just looks at the maid who runs in with a frantic look on his face. He feels ill as he stands and nearly runs out of the room, suddenly feeling crowded and overwhelmed. Nothing even similar to that had ever happened in his life, so he shoves it to the side, assuming it to just be a fluke.

He takes a few deep breathes and starts towards his bedroom, before Niall finds him and starts giving him the tasks that his father had left for him to complete.

Three days go by of the same boring routine - Louis hides from Niall until he gets found and told that his father left more tasks for him to complete. He knows Niall is just doing his job, but it’s only served to make his already boring days feel like they’re dragging on further.

He’s writing letters in the dining room, just for a change of scenery, when the door opens quickly, then slams closed, making a loud noise sound throughout the entire room.

He’s frozen with fear for a moment, but he takes a moment and calms himself down enough to continue writing his letters without a problem.

It feels like hours pass before the sound of glass breaking makes him jump from his spot in the chair once again. His head immediately darts up from where he’d been looking down, and he sees plates and various other dishes wobbling about in their displays, the cabinets are all shaking on their own, and suddenly, everything starts falling. It all comes tumbling out of the cupboards and some fly across the room. He gets up and runs over to the door, only to find it locked.

Chairs fall over, the table shakes, and he’s panicking.

He puts his hands over his head as the china flies from the cabinets, shattering against the walls. Chairs continue to fly from the dining room table and he cowers. He tries the door again, quickly running from the room when he finds it unlocked. As chaos fills the room he runs, darts down the farthest hall of the west wing of the palace and quickly knocks on his Valet’s room door.

As soon as Niall opens the door and sees Louis’ panicked expression, he steps into the hall. “Yes, my prince?”

“I need an – an – a paranormal person. An exorcism. Something is very, very wrong.” His words are stringing together and he’s not even sure he’s making sense, but his body is trembling and he’s had all he can take.

“I’m – I’m sorry?”

“In the dining room. Get me an adress so I can write a letter, immediately.” And then he’s turning away, nearing a sprint as he goes to return to his own quarters. He wants safety more than anything else – and so far his bedroom is the only room in the palace that he hasn’t experienced any of these devilish instances. So, he flees.

He lays on his bed and tries to steady his racing heart – unsure of what to do. Small things throughout his life had never bothered him, but these – spirits – or whatever he is meant to call these beings that are manifesting within his home are starting to make him fear for his own life. All he can do now is hope that Niall is able to find him a professional of sorts that can provide him with a service to rid of these things.

He doesn’t even care who it is at this point – so long as they help him through this terrifying experience. Nothing feels right anymore - almost like he’s becoming a victim to living within his own home, within the walls he’s found comfort in for his entire life.

He pulls a pillow over his head and calms his own breathing, forcing himself to count in and out for each breath, keeping a steady and constant pattern. It’s before he’s entirely calm when there’s a soft knocking at his door, but he calls for them to come in anyway.

“My prince, I found someone for your needs.” Niall says, uncertainty clear in his voice. “He’s living about a three day’s journey from here and Sir Malik says he is the best in the country.”

“Yes, yes, an address, Niall, please. I need to write him immediately.” The blonde boy brings over an address stamped on a small card of thick parchment, which Louis takes quickly. “Anything else for you, sir?”

“Thank you, Niall. That’s all for this evening.”

He quickly starts on writing his letter, unsure of exactly how to explain himself. The idea of the public finding such incriminating evidence of him believing in such devilish acts would be dire, so he keeps his message brief instead.

Mr. Styles,

After hearing of your esteemed services from a trusted colleague, I believe I would benefit greatly from your services. Your travel and lodge for the duration of necessity of course would be taken care of, as well as any other needs you may have. Please reply with your availability.

Louis Tomlinson

Penning out the note, he almost feels like he’s breaking some sort of law that does not exist. He isn’t sure why this entire act feels so secretive, but he allows himself to seal the envelope with his royal stamp and hand the letter off to a maid to be sent.

Something inside of him settles with the simple fact that he’s almost handed off the responsibility to another person. Having someone who may or may not be able to assist him with the issues going on around him right now brings a weight off of his shoulders he cannot explain.

He breathes out a sigh of relief.

One week later, he’s awaiting Mr. Styles’ arrival, and he’s nervous. He hopes that he’s able to offer his services because as the week has gone on these - instances - have only managed to get worse. He’d been locked in his bedroom for hours earlier in the week while there was the sound of constant chatter with an unidentifiable source. He’s beyond unsure what he’s meant to do at this point, and he only hopes that something can be done.

The second the man walks into the castle, escorted both by two guards and the carriage hand, Liam, Louis is taken aback. He looks almost exactly how Louis had imagined he would, and yet he looks nothing like he expected all the same. He has longer hair than most men he’s met, curly and swirling atop his head with highlights of light and dark brown twisted together perfectly. With him, he carries in the scent of flowers and strong oils that Louis feels he could be drawn in by.

Green eyes look around the castle as the man gives a gentle bow of respect towards the prince, and Louis returns the gesture. Beneath a pure white suit, with a cravat tied expertly around his neck, is the slightest tinge of pink to his undershirt. He has a burlap bag hanging over his shoulder, embroidered with flowers and symbols in a language Louis does not know.

Louis is certain he’s never seen anyone wearing anything so bold, and even so, he’d never have considered himself to find it attractive.

Mr. Styles is sinfully attractive.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Styles. Thank you for your travels and should you wish to settle in before we discuss business, Liam will show you to your room.”

“Of course, Prince Tomlinson. Where should I find you?”

“I will be in the parlor whenever you find yourself prepared.” The taller man nods, and Liam guides him down the hallway towards his room. Giving Harry a room not within the south hall, where most guests stay, was a decision Louis made without thinking. Perhaps he hoped that his presence there would ward off spirits, or maybe he just hoped he would be more comfortable. He’d been told already that such an action wasn’t deemed wise, but it did not stop him.

This man was here to help him, and Louis certainly wasn’t going to miss out on getting everything he possibly could out of the encounter.

When Harry emerges from his room, he holds a bundle of small, white flowers. Louis looks down to the flowers, quirking an eyebrow in question. “Your majesty.” The man greets with another small bow of his head, “As I was taught to never enter one’s home without a gift, I brought you these. They are Jasmine flowers, and they should help begin to clear out the negative energies here that are drawing spirits to your palace.”

Louis can’t help but smile at the simple gift, unsure of how he’s meant to take it. No one has ever thought to give him such a simple gift, always assuming he already has everything he could want.

Harry seems so… easy going with everything that he does. He acts so entirely confident with is words and the way he says everything that Louis can’t help but be drawn in. There’s something intoxicating about the man that Louis can’t pinpoint and it makes his head spin in a way no one ever has before.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. That’s incredibly thoughtful of you.” He says, taking the flowers and placing them inside of a glass vase beside a small bundle of daisies he’d picked from the garden earlier in the week.

He watches as Harry pulls various little herbs and bottles of brightly colored liquids from his satchel, and sets them out on a table beside him, as well as several differently colored candles. “I suppose we will begin, then?” He asks with a small smile.

“Oh, yes. Yes. Of course.”

“Is this the room that you would consider having the most paranormal activity?”

“Well, no, I believe that would be the dining room. But this was where I found it first becoming a problem.” Harry hums a quiet response.

“What exactly happened in this room?”

“A book was moved from where it was placed, and a tray of tea china was thrown off of the side table.”

“No voices or hearing anything out of place?”

“No. But that did happen in my bedroom, at one point.”

“Alright, well for this room, I’ll be lighting a few candles as well as burning a few herbs, which I will be doing in all of the rooms of the castle where you’ve experienced these oddities first hand first, and then I will move on to all of the other rooms, as well.”

“Of course.” Nothing in the room really changes when the flame suddenly takes up on the candle, or when the bitter smell of a burning herb fills the room. He’s not entirely sure what he expected when this happened, but it certainly wasn’t nothing.

Silence continued to fill the room as Harry just walked about, letting the strong, bitter smoke smell fill the room. When he finished walking a few loops around the room, he lit a tall, white candle, followed by a brown one.

“What are those for?”

“White brings purity, brown is neutral, but brings balance. In this case, to balance energies, to bring harmony between negative and positive.” Louis isn’t entirely sure what he’s meant to say to something so certain, to someone who sounds so calm and easy in the way they speak about something he has no idea about. So he smiles and gives an appreciative nod instead. “Typically, it’s best to only do one room per day that has a strong connection to spirits, otherwise they can, uh, retaliate.”

“Retaliate?”

“In a negative way.”

“Right.”

“So, I can move on to the rooms where there has been no documented activity.”

“And if there were to have been activity in such a room that just went unnoticed? There are many vacant rooms in this castle, Mr. Styles.” A little dimple appears in the corner of a confident smile.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Prince Louis. Thank you for your concern.”

“Then good evening, I suppose, Mr. Styles. Liam or Niall will escort you around should you have any questions.”

“Good evening, Prince Louis.” Harry bows just slightly, and Louis’ knees feel weak.

“Oh, Mr. Styles?” The man turns around in acknowledgement before he exits the room, once again giving Louis his full attention. “You are welcome to join me for dinner tonight, as my guest of the palace.”

“Thank you.”

Dinner comes faster than Louis wanted it to. As soon as he’d extended the invite, he regretted it. Something about this enigmatic man drew him in in a way he’d never experienced, made him unable to speak the way he normally would, made him weak in his knees in ways no one ever had before. It was strange and entirely unlike him in every way.

His entire life he’d been rather passive when it came to finding a man to love, and even more so when it came time to be presented with the actual suitors. And yet, spending less than an hour with this man made him feel like his entire life had been missing something up to this point.

He was incredibly tired of people bowing down at every word he spoke, tired of everyone articulating their words beyond perfection just to avoid the ever-so-terrifying idea of disappointing him. He wanted to be challenged, wanted to be made to feel equal to the man he was to marry.

Harry wasn’t a suitor, not in any way, and yet he made him feel ways that he wanted from a man. Perhaps it was fate’s way of teasing him and reminding him that there will never be a man available to him that he desires to love. Or maybe he’s entirely too negative and is only spinning this in a direction that will make him sad.

He’s never been very good at differentiating between the two, so he tries to only get the thoughts out of his mind instead. Mr. Styles is charming, but so are many men that he’s met. Niall has a sense of awkward charm to him that he’s never found attractive, just as Liam does. Perhaps he can find a way to file Mr. Styles into a similar thought pattern.

“Prince Louis,” Niall says, knocking on the door quietly. “Dinner will be prepared in five minutes.”

“Thank you, Niall.” He says softly, just loud enough that he knows his Valet can hear him through the door. Once he hears the familiar sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway, he knows he’s alone once again.

It’s only a moment later that Louis is forcing himself down the hallway towards the dining room, only to find Harry standing there already, chatting enthusiastically with Liam, who has a broad smile on his face. He thinks, for a moment, that this is what Harry does - he brings happiness to a room so easily.

“Good evening, Mr. Styles.”

“Good evening, Prince Louis.”

“Feel free to sit wherever you please. Many formalities are disregarded when my parents aren’t in the castle.”

“Thank you.” He says again, before choosing a seat directly across from Louis. It’s quiet for a moment as the maids bring out the food as per usual, and Louis’ thoughts run rampant as he tries to think of an appropriate question to ask, or a subject to bring up.

“So, is this what you do all the time? The paranormal guiding?”

“Oh, no.” Harry says with a small laugh. “I’m actually an apprentice under my father. He’s the head of the House of Lords. I find that politics aren’t entirely my passion as they are his, though. So I’ve found a hobby that I am rather good at.”

“That’s actually… very interesting. What got you interested in all of this?”

“Are we asking questions back and forth?”

“I suppose that is how people get to know each other, is it not?” There’s a smile on the other man’s face once again, and Louis finds it hard not to be drawn in. Harry is captivating.

“I suppose you’re right. Would it not be my turn, then?” Louis nods his affirmation and motions with his hand for Harry to go on. “What do you do for fun then?”

“I quite like to read. I spend most of my free time doing that. And gardening, that’s one of my favorite things to do.”

They keep talking throughout the meal, easy conversation floating between them. Harry is one of the easiest people to speak to - one of the best people he’s ever had a conversation with. Something about Harry’s charm is nearly contagious, making Louis feel oddly comfortable around him.

By the end of the meal, all regrets are gone and he’s beyond happy that he invited Harry to eat with him.

The next day leads much the same. They’re in the parlor again, and Harry lights a few more candles. Although, they end up talking a lot more this time than Louis spends just watching him doing what he seems to be so good at.

Harry practices whatever it is that he does with precision, with a look on his face that shows that he certainly, without a doubt, knows exactly what he’s doing. There is no room to believe otherwise, simply because any doubt would immediately be squandered just by watching the way he works.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Good morning, my Prince.” Louis opens his eyes and is almost taken aback for a moment. Harry is standing beside his bed with his typical glass of tea in hand. “Niall has asked me to wake you since we will be together for the remainder of the morning.” There’s a hint of a blush across Harry’s pale cheeks and Louis is skeptical, unsure if that’s true or not, but he nods all the same.

He doesn’t allow himself to complain this time, as he usually would when Niall wakes him for his mornings, but instead forces himself to be tasteful in front of a guest that doesn’t know of his rather unusual behavior traits.

Harry hands him his tea and seems unsure of what he’s meant to do from there, and Louis quirks an eyebrow at the other man. “Niall sent you here, to perform his duties, because you will be doing your job for the rest of the day?”

“Well, er, I suppose when you say it like that it sounds a bit odd.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Niall for a moment, though.” He says with a laugh. “If you want to just set that over there, you can. Niall used to stay, before he got into the habit of finding Shawn at any moment he isn’t obligated to be around me, so you’re welcome to as well.” He says with a small laugh before he climbs out of bed.

His nightgown is typical, soft silk shirt and pants. It’s a light blue color this time, and he quickly goes to the table as soon as Harry sits with him, pouring in just a bit of milk to his tea.

“What is the plan for today, then?”

“Well, what is the next least-haunted room in the castle?”

“I suppose that would be my bedroom. But did you not say you wanted to work with some of the less haunted rooms first? I could show you around the castle a bit if uh, if that’s something you need to do.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Harry doesn’t work that day. Well, he lights a few candles as they go about the castle, but Louis spends the majority of the day describing paintings, showing him rooms, telling the stories of significance that lay about the castle. They chat about their lives and their aspirations, about what they want the most in the future and it all feels great. Harry makes him happy, his presence emits a kind of peace that he never thought a person could give.

“My mother had one girl shortly after I was born.” He says as they pass a room in the castle he hasn’t been near in a long while. “Her name was Charlotte.” He pauses for a moment. “She died when I was fourteen, to scarlet fever. No one really comes back here as often as we used to, since we’ve healed and moved on from the loss, but this was her room.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Harry says, and he sounds sincere. It’s been longer than Louis would like to admit since it has felt like someone really meant what they said to him.

“It’s alright, now. I think she’s in a better place than she was being here, sick and not feeling well.”  

“That’s a very good outlook. Not many people have it, and it’s very admirable.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

“Please call me Harry.”

“Only if you call me Louis.” Harry smiles again, and everything feels right.

The next morning, Harry wakes him again. “Good morning, Prince Louis.” Harry says, a small smile on his face when Louis opens his eyes.

“You know you can just call me Louis.” He counters, and Harry doesn’t falter.

“I might need another reminder, please excuse my poor memory.” Harry laughs when he speaks. This time, his tray has two cups of tea and he sets it on the table with ease, sitting down and waiting for Louis to join him. They talk for a while this time, unabashed in the fact that they are just spending time together for fun.

Something about Harry is interesting in ways that he doesn’t think he’s experienced before. Harry is so easy to talk to, fun to talk to, and actually has things to say. The way he talks is slow, drawing him in to each word. All of the funny stories he tells are actually funny - something he certainly hasn’t experienced often enough in his life. Not once has he had to fake a polite laugh or smile in response to something he found offensive.

Everything is easy and he thinks he could get used to it.

 

 

The next three days go on much the same. Harry wakes him up every morning the same way, they sit, they chat, and then they both pretend Harry is working while Louis shows him different parts of the castle and explains stories that no one else knows.

He knows he should feel bad for spending his parent’s money on someone doing a job that they aren’t actually doing, and yet,he doesn’t. There have been many times that Louis has been alone in the castle while his parents are off doing the things he knows they need to do, but none of them have ever been this exciting - he’s never been this happy to be without them.

He thinks, for a moment, that finding someone like this is what he needs to do to find a good husband. He needs to find someone that makes him feel happy, that doesn’t make this castle feel like an incredibly large yet hollow home.

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you here.” Harry says that evening, after moving from sitting across from Louis to beside him. “I know you are paying me and yet I am not doing any of the work that I promised I would do upon arriving.” He says softly, the guilt easily written all over his face.

“Harry,” He starts, “If I really wanted you to be doing your job that last few days, I wouldn’t have purposely been distracting you.” He laughs. “I didn’t think I was being entirely sly with what I was doing.” A light pink blush spreads across Harry’s face at Louis’ words, and he can’t help but smile.

“I suppose you weren’t being, now that I think about it.”

“I quite enjoy your company, Harry, and while that is entirely unprofessional and you are welcome to just leave whenever you feel the need to, it’s been very nice having someone around like yourself.”

“Likewise, Prince Louis.”

“So, what do you say?”

“To me continuing to stay and not work?”

“Well, no, but perhaps to…. Extending your stay since we are both having good company.”

“I suppose I can’t deny that.”

Harry does end up going through more than half of the empty rooms throughout the next two days, but Louis mostly follows him around, just watching what he’s doing. It’s interesting to watch, is the thing. Every little action that he does has a clear purpose that Louis never would have even imagined. Each candle has a meaning, each herb and flower and color has a meaning, everything that Louis never would have so much as thought twice about seems to have a meaning.

Harry shows him his journal over dinner that night, explaining the colors and the symbolism of time and everything. It all begins to make a little more sense after he explains, and when everything ties in together to the hauntings not happening before, it all just starts to make him happy. Happy in a way he can’t describe.

As the days go on with Harry, nothing strange or odd happens at all. Everything quiets down. Not a single door closes without someone closing it, nothing gets moved around, things don’t disappear, and most importantly, he feels comfortable in his own home.

And yet, he dreads it all ending. He’s slowly beginning to dread Harry leaving, to dread the idea of being alone all over again in this big house where he often feels like he has no one to connect to. Harry connects with him on a level no one ever has and he’s not entirely sure he’s ready to lose that connection.

But he isn’t the one that can make these decisions, and even if he were, he can’t be certain Harry would feel the same.

So he doesn’t think about it, doesn’t let his mind wonder to the possibilitues and instead forces himself to think only about what is, rather than what could be. Harry is a great man, a great person, and a great personality. He’s kind and generous and Louis would almost consider him a friend. But that is all he can allow himself to think of him as. A friend.

 

 

The next two days bring real work from Harry.

They go about into his room, lighting and burning incense while Harry mumbles scripture under his breath, and Louis feels safe.

Until the next day, when they’re in the parlor and everything feels cold. He hadn’t noticed the pattern before Harry pointed it out to him, but as soon as it was brought to his attention he noticed. Right before something paranormal was to happen around him, everything would get substantially colder around him. To the point of discomfort.

Harry warns him against lighting the fireplace, so he doesn’t instead just wraps his arms around himself as the other man starts digging through his bag once again, placing various items on the table beside him. Louis can pinpoint the purposes of each now: the candles for keeping the spirits away, the herbs and flowers for warding them away, and the certainty of what they are for certain energies to be put through the room. He thinks it makes more sense when Harry explains since he certainly doesn’t claim to be an expert, but it makes enough sense now for him to feel confident in what Harry is doing.

The sound of a loud, high pitched scream reverberates through the entire room, and he feels his blood run cold. It’s terrifying, is the thing.

Louis grips on to the man out of fear, the sudden noise causing goosebumps to prickle along his skin. Harry doesn’t so much as flinch, instead just keeps waving the burning sage around the room as he whispers under his breath.

Every single aspect about all of this chills him to the bone, terrifies him in ways he’d never expected to be afraid. A person from beyond death returning to torment him doesn’t sound like something he’d brought upon himself, and he can’t imagine a reason that someone would have cursed it upon him.

And yet, Harry seems firm and unafraid. It’s almost as if none of this effects him in the slightest as he burns his herbs and the noise comes to a stop. A little, pleased smile spreads across his face as the noise stops, and he brings out three dried flowers from his satchel, then places them on the side table. “For more good luck. To keep spirits away is very much about what energies you emit to them.” Harry explains, “They feed on negative energy, on self doubt, on sadness. So any time you or anyone else in your palace is feeling these things, the spirits grow stronger.” Louis can only nod as he listens to Harry speak, drawn in by every word. “You said that the hauntings were quite mild when you were younger?”

“Yes, just doors closing and such. Nothing like… this.”

“I’m assuming it’s been the same spirit that has resided here for much of your life, then. It’s only grown stronger in that time.”

“And you can keep it away?” Louis asks, a cold fear gripping his heart as he thinks of Lottie. He can’t help but think of her now, if this spirit is her, trying to get Louis’ attention as she did for most of her life.

“Of course, Prince Louis. That’s what you’ve called me here to do, and I will deliver.”

“You know you can call me Louis.”

“I might need another reminder.” Harry’s smile brightens the room in a way a candle never could.

He, Niall, Liam, and Harry all drink together on a tuesday night. They gather in the parlor and let loose, as Louis loves to do on rare occasions. He brings out the best wine he can find, and pours each of them a glass. Niall brings some of the moonshine that he’s become rather infamous around the kingdom for making so well, and they have a good night.

Liam tells the stories of the kingdom, as he’s been out more recently than Louis has, Niall gossips about the staff, Louis tells the best jokes he can think of, and Harry is his normal, charismatic self. It’s almost strange how well the four of them fit together, in perfect harmony like they were always meant to be surrounded by each other. There are no awkward silences and nothing feels out of the ordinary. He feels comfortable surrounded by the people he considers his friends and he wants nothing to change.

There hasn’t been anything from the paranormal since two days previous when Harry cleared away the screaming spirit. He wishes he could know more about it, wishes he could know the science behind what was happening and why it was working, but instead he let Harry explain it to him again with words slower than usual from the alcohol.

Liam and Niall poke fun about the two of them and Louis doesn’t say anything, ignores them instead and lets them tease, but he can’t be entirely sure how he could feel within a few days. Having spent just over a week with Harry, he already feels like he’s enjoying his company more than he should. It’s almost like a form of self torture, forcing himself to spend time with him. But he doesn’t let himself think about that anymore than he already has.

When he stumbles into bed that evening, he doesn’t have any regrets on his mind and he has no worries for the future. Instead, he’s happy and ready to take whatever comes next. Everything in life happens for a reason, and he knows that. There is a reason for all of this and he will take what comes.

He doesn’t see Harry at all the next day. Niall comes in the morning and tells Louis that he’d been ill this morning, likely from all of the drinking the night before, and Louis can’t help but let an endeared laugh come from his mouth.

“Louis?” Niall asks, and immediately grabs his attention. Louis has told the other man many times throughout their lives to just call him by his first name, and when he does, it’s usually something important.

“Yes?”

“May I speak freely for a moment?”

“Of course, Niall. You know you are more a friend to me than just a servant.” The blond man nods, but still falters.

“Do you fancy Harry? Beyond just a friend?”

“I-” Louis stumbles over what he’s meant to say, unsure of what would be too bold, of what wouldn’t be bold enough, of what would be a truth, a lie. “I believe it would be dishonest of me to say I did not. He is rather captivating in a way I’ve never experienced.”

“You know your parents want you to find a suitor. Would he… would he make you happy?”

“I believe he would. But there has been no sign that he returns these feelings, and there is no reason for me to act on mine and risk humiliation.”

“Of course.” Niall says, a sad smile on his face. “Thank you for telling me.” Niall leaves him his tea, but Louis doesn’t do much of anything for the remainder of the day. He reads at his desk, writes a few more letters, including one to his parents, and only leaves his room for meal times.

It’s nearly evening when Harry finally emerges, with an apology on his lips. Louis excuses him immediately.

“There is no reason to be sorry. I believe that you deserve a day to yourself, and it is rather unfortunate you had to spend it ill.”

“I’m not sure exactly what Niall makes his moonshine from, but whatever it is should not be served alone anymore.” Harry says with a smile, and Louis can’t help but laugh.

“Perhaps not.”

He and Harry go through the west wing of the palace over again, lighting more candles, and burning more herbs. Another door slams closed after they’ve entered it, and Harry promises that all of these instances will no longer happen when he’s done everything he needs to do. This is the last part of the castle they hadn’t gone through, and he hopes that the other man is right.

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done here.”

“This started as a job, but I think I’ve found myself enjoying this more than any other job I’ve had previously.” Harry says softly, making Louis’ heart skip a beat. He’s happy.

 

 

The moon is high in the sky when he emerges from bed that night. He’s not sure what woke him, but when consciousness comes to the front of his mind, he hears muffled voices from somewhere down the hall.

So, he stands. He crawls out of bed and opens the door quietly, before slowly tiptoeing down towards the source. It’s rare that he hears Niall and Liam from his room, since they usually stay in the south wing, but the voices are very clear.

Standing in the hall, he feels almost like an intruder. He feels for a moment like he’s not meant to be there, as if he’s out of place in a way he’s never felt before. He’d been drawn in by the low murmur of familiar voices, a sound so rarely heard before the sun peeks over the horizon, and the boredom from being unable to sleep.

“It’s a rather unorthodox question.” He hears the deep drawl of a voice he’s slowly started to associate with familiarity. Harry.

“As if I care about obscurities.” Counters the all-too-familiar irish accent that bounces off the walls and reverberates down the hall. “You can ask me anything you’d like, but I can’t promise an answer.” The sound of a glass clinking followers the answer, and Louis can only assume that the other two men are drinking together, as Niall does many nights after Louis dismisses him.

“Um,” Harry starts again, “Is the prince set to be wed?”

“No, he’s not taken a liking to any of the suitors he’s been shown in the last few years.”

“Suitors?” Harry’s voice goes high.

“Oh, yes. Is it not common knowledge in your city? The prince has quite an affliction for men.” Louis’ knees feel weak when he hears Niall’s voice. Harry doesn’t respond for a long moment, and he suddenly feels the urge to turn around, to walk into his room and pretend he never overheard any of this. He can’t pinpoint exactly why, but a fresh wave of shame floods through his body. His face feels warm and his heart beats faster in his chest.

“I almost wish it weren’t so.” Harry finally says after a long pause. “I fancy him quite a bit.”

“Do you?” Niall asks, a little laugh in his voice. “If it weren’t too bold to say, I’d almost assume the prince doesn’t - not fancy you. It’s been nearly two years since he’s allowed someone to stay in the castle beyond necessary.” He’s pleased that Niall doesn’t fully tell his secret, but it still makes embarrassment creep up in the heat on his face.

“I am not here beyond necessity!” Harry defends, but there’s a hint of a laugh to the claim. Louis has known for nearly two days now that Harry had completed his job, but something about watching him leave almost sounded painful in a way he hadn’t been able to explain until right now, right in this moment. It’s almost a startling realization that he does fancy Harry - that he’s kept him around because he wants to know him, because he wants nothing more than to have a conversation with him and let him wake him in the mornings with his clearly false claim that Niall had asked him to do so. “I am simply here to ward off any more negative energies.”

“Of course, I apologize for my bold statement.” Niall says, laughing again. There’s an edge of a slur to his voice that shows exactly how much he’d been drinking throughout the night.

Louis chooses that moment to turn back to his room and pretend the entire night was simply an incident he won’t remember when he wakes in the morning. Thoughts of Harry saying he fancies him swirl around in his head even as he lays back down in his bed and wraps the duvet around his body. The thoughts of Harry don’t stop as he attempts to force himself back to sleep.

Instead, they keep him awake, and the appeal to Harry only grows in his mind.

Niall had been entirely right when he said he’d turned away every suitor that had been sent his way, but it was simply because none of them had been able to hold his interest for more than a few moments.

Harry, though, is an entirely different world compared to those other men. Louis finds himself wanting to spend time with him, has found himself excited to wake in the mornings to go to the “sessions” with Harry.

When he finally falls to sleep, it’s fitful.

Morning comes and Louis still wants nothing more than to talk to Harry. It’s an urge that he can’t suppress and it’s nagging under his skin in a way nothing has in a long while. He turns in bed and the blankets tangle around his ankles, making him groan again. His mind is on a constant loop and it won’t shut off.

Now that he knows that Harry is attracted to him, his heart beats fast in his chest and he wants nothing more than to be able to repress those feelings like he’d been doing for the entire week. It was much easier when he thought it was one sided - when he thought that nothing would come of it and he could make it out as a pointless crush in his mind that would never have anything come of it.

The door opens and his eyes dart over, only to see Harry standing there once again, small tray in hand with two cups of tea and a dimpled grin on his face.

“Good morning, prince Louis.”

“Harry, please just call me Louis.” He says, the same script coming to life as it has every day for the last few days, bringing a smile to his face.

“You might have to remind me a few more times.” Harry rebuttals, a matching smile on his face, too.

“What is it you have planned for us today?”

“More incense, burnings and such.” Harry places the tray on the table beside the bed and Louis stands, walking over and sitting down. He’s not sure how this came about, with him being so comfortable and relaxed in a way with Harry that he’s never been with anyone else. When he sits beside him, it all makes sense.

What he’d heard the night before burns the back of his throat. He wants to say something - wants to ask Harry if what he’d said the night previous was true, and yet he can’t find the courage to do so. Everything feels uncertain and he wants nothing more than just to know what will happen.

Instead, he follows the same routine he’s slowly started to adopt. He drinks his tea with Harry, and they chat about everything and nothing all the same, and peace surrounds him again.

It’s not until just after lunch, when they’re headed to take a walk in the garden, that the words snake their way out of his throat and betray what his mind meant to say.

“Harry.” He says, breaking the quiet of the room. “Last night um -” The other man turns to look at him, eyes wide. “Last night, I think I heard something.” Harry’s expression looks calm, like he doesn’t feel the same turmoil inside of him that Louis feels.

Harry stands closer than he ever has and the scent of burning frankincense fills the air. The smell of burning flowers and strong, sweet scents is something that Louis has grown used to since Harry has gotten here.

Something about the other man has seemingly infiltrated every single area of the castle and Louis certainly wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s a sweet smell that Louis thinks he could get used to and he never wants to let it go, but he isn’t entirely sure if he’s mixing up the smell of the burning herb or the sweet cedar like smell coming from the man in front of him.

His head is tilted upwards, looking into Harry’s eyes for a long moment. They sparkle under the dancing motions of the candles around the room and Louis knows he could get lost in them so very easily.

“Prince Louis,” Harry says just barely above a whisper.

“Please just call me Louis.” He teases, a smile on his own face, now. A small dimpled smile breaks out over Harry’s face and it’s almost as if the twinkle in his eyes gets brighter. A small pink tongue darts out between plush plump lips and Louis feels entranced, like he could look at him forever.

“Louis,” He begins, slow voice drawing out each syllable. It’s the first time he’s used only his first name without the title, and it makes his heart skip a beat. “If you should allow me, I think I’d like to kiss you.”

“I believe I would like nothing more.”

Harry kisses like he talks – with slow drags of his lips that make more impact than Louis has ever experienced in his life. Strong smells surround them and more candles than Louis ever would have burned in a single room surround them, and it’s beyond anything Louis could have imagined for a scene such as this. It’s beyond what Louis thought he could have imagined for his first kiss and it’s everything he believes he wants for the rest of his life.

A large hand moves to rest against the small of his back and he moves his own to grab at the fabric of Harry’s collar, gripping tightly as their lips move in sync with one another, moving as if they were meant to collide.

When they pull apart, heat spreads across Louis’ cheeks, to the point where he’s nearly certain they’re dusted with a rosy red, and it matches the tint of color on Harry’s face as well. He’s smiling, wider than he has in a long while, and things almost feel as if they’re right – correct in a way they haven’t been in a while.

“Tonight,” Louis whispers, unsure now why he feels the need to keep his voice low, yet it feels almost like he’d disturb the aura of the room if he were to speak loudly. “I will have a bottle of wine in my room, just past nightfall. Should you decide to join me, I will not protest.”

“I believe it would be only wrong of me to turn down a request made by the prince himself.” Harry says, the same dimpled grin on his face that Louis has grown so very fond of.

The night comes as promised, and Louis’ heart beats fast in his chest. He has a bottle of wine set in a bucket of ice and two glasses set out, and he waits. A part of him worries that Harry just won’t come - that he’ll just pretend that this is nothing more than a business transaction and make all of this come to an end. But another part of him almost hopes that Harry will come. He isn’t entirely sure what the night will bring, what he will give to Harry, what he will confess as the moon climbs higher in the sky, but he knows already that he wants it all.

He’s not in love with Harry - not yet - but the thing is, he knows he could be. He knows that that possibility is very real, very possible, and standing right in front of him. He’d just written a letter and sent it to his parents telling of his infatuation with a man with strong political involvement. He knows that there is nothing separating the two of them from marrying, and yet, the nerves still peak.

And then there’s a knock on the door that nearly pulls the breath from Louis’ lungs. “Hi.” He says as Harry walks in, replacing anything special that he thought he intended to say.

“Hello.” Harry says, a small smile on his face.

“Come in.” Nerves suddenly bloom in Louis’ chest as he realizes that Harry actually came to meet him. His heart is pounding and a thin layer of sweat has taken over his palms, but he forces himself to remain as composed as he can.

Wine forgotten, Harry stands close, so close, and Louis feels weak all over again. It’s slow yet so perfect how the other man takes his time leaning in, places his hands on Louis’ hips and sends sparks through his entire body.

Kissing Harry is Louis’ new favorite pastime. It makes him feel alive, makes sparks go about his stomach and makes his entire body feel electric. “You have to leave soon, and yet I don’t want you to.” Louis says softly as they lay in bed together, limbs tangled in the kind of cuddling Louis has craved his entire life.

“I do.”

“Bathe with me.” The statement obviously takes Harry by surprise - but Louis doesn’t so much as let his voice waver. He holds his gaze strong with the green eyed boy standing before him as he comes three steps forward, just enough to place a hand against Harry’s chest. His intentions are clear as he runs three finger tips down the expanse of his chest. “If you want to, of course,” He says before taking a single step back as he starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. 

Harry stares for a moment, clearly lost in his own thoughts, or possibly just in the situation itself. Louis knows well that he’s being promiscuous, but it’s his intention. If Harry never returns, he wants something to remember him by and to send him with a memory of his own. 

It only seems proper, after all. 

As he strips the material away from his chest and lets it fall to the floor, only then does Harry speak. “Are you certain?” His eyes sweep over the pale expanse of Louis’ skin as he speaks, clearly showing his own restraint in just agreeing - obvious in being the gentleman that he is. 

“Yes,” He says easily, the word falling from his lips. He’s never been so certain of anything else. 

 

A servant fills the water for Louis while Harry stays out of sight elsewhere, and as soon as it’s full, the servant is sent away. Louis takes Harry’s hand as he pulls him towards the water, a small smile on his face. 

Harry is stripped down to his pants just as Louis is, and he’s quick to remove the material from the other man’s body. Harry quirks an eyebrow, a smile on his face as well. 

“What oil is your favorite?” Louis asks as he motions to the cart filled with the little jars of different scents. 

“I have always loved lavender.” Louis grabs the bottle and pours just enough in the let the soft aroma fill the room around them, but keeps the bottle in his hand. 

“You get in first. I’ll sit between your legs.” Harry just nods before he situates himself into the water, soft noises of the water moving sounding around them. Louis sits between Harry’s legs as he said he would, and smiles as the other man wraps his arms around his waist. 

“Touch me,” Louis says, leaning back to kiss Harry’s jaw. 

“There’s nothing I would like to do more.” 

Harry takes the lavender oil and pours it over his fingers, looking into Louis’ eyes with what almost appears to be a sort of hesitation. “You won’t hurt me,” Louis reassures, a small smile on his face as he rubs a wet thumb across the bone of Harry’s cheek. It leaves a light wet trail in its path, showing the exact place he’d touched him, and dries in just a moment. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“I trust you.” This seems to ease the worry from the other man as he rubs the digit against Louis’ entrance, just the tip of the finger barely pushing past the ring of muscle there. 

As soon as the entire finger is pressed inside, Louis nearly falls limp against Harry’s naked chest. It doesn’t particularly feel pleasant just yet - not in the way it has when he’s done it to himself, but it feels intimate. 

“Move your finger around a bit,” He whispers, hoping to find the sparks of pleasure he’s found himself before. As soon as Harry obeys, Louis’ legs nearly kick out as a pure jolt of energy sparks through his body and a low moan escapes from the back of his throat. “There, like that.” 

“It feels good?”

“Yes, when you do it like that.” So that’s what Harry does, he continues with the single finger, moving it around inside of him as Louis squirms about on his lap, breaths faster than normal. “Add a second finger, you have to open me up, not just play with me.” He watches as Harry bites his lip before he adds in a second finger beside the first, adding more of the pressure inside of Louis. 

It feels nice. 

There’s not anything else in the world that Louis can quite compare it to - but it feels incredible. Especially as Harry moves his finger around, touching that spot inside of him that makes everything feel even better. 

“Good?” Harry asks again. It only serves to make it feel even more intimate each time that Harry asks how he’s doing. For some reason, just the thought that Harry cares so deeply seems to make him enjoy the moment so much more. 

“It’s wonderful.” He moans again. “But I’d quite like you inside of me, now.” This makes Harry stutter just a bit, but it’s barely a moment before he’s pulling his fingers away and spreading more of the oil across his cock. Louis finally takes notice of his own cock once he sees Harry’s, notices the way it’s hard and pink at the head. 

He’s more turned on than he’s ever been in his life. 

“How do we want to do it?” Harry asks lowly, running a hand over the bare skin of Louis’ back. 

“I’m going to sit on your lap,” He says as he climbs up, adjusts his position, and feels the tip of Harry’s cock brush against his entrance. It makes both of them gasp at the same time, and Harry takes a hand and guides Louis properly. He sits himself down and slowly begins to sink down on Harry’s cock. 

It feels different as he slowly sits down, and he forces himself to breathe through it. 

Once he’s sat down, he stays still for a moment, quickly calmed by the soothing feeling of Harry’s hands against his bare skin. “Take as long as you need,” Harry says softly into his ear, “If you’re not comfortable we don’t need to continue.” Louis nods, but just a moment later he uses his knees to lift himself up. 

It slowly starts to feel nice. 

As that same spot inside of him gets rubbed even more than it had with Harry’s fingers inside of him, and he gasps with the feeling of it. Harry keeps his hands on Louis’ hips, helping him move with each thrust, and he nearly feels limp with it. He moans loudly as he moves, and the little gasps and noises Harry makes alongside him only spurs him on. 

“Oh, fuck,” Louis gasps again, breathing out in heavy exhales. 

“You feel so good,” Harry says, placing little kisses against Louis’ mouth. The water sloshes around them as they move, but there isn’t a single other way Louis would have wanted this. This is the only way he ever could have imagined he would have wanted this. 

He comes faster than he ever has before, and Harry follows fast behind. 

They stay like that together for a long while, cuddled together in the now dirty water until their skin turns to prunes and the water goes cold. 

 

As soon as they’re dressed once again, hair still damp, Louis can’t help but walk up close to Harry once again. “Stay,” he says, voice just above a whisper. 

“I would if I could.” That’s the end of the conversation and Louis knows that, and yet he still wants to argue. He wants to tell Harry he can stay, that he could stay beside Louis as long as he wanted to and Louis would never tire of him - but there would be no proper way to articulate such a desire.

He’s not entirely sure how they wind up curling up together in bed, clothed and proper, yet close enough that it feels normal. Harry’s fallen asleep now, soft puffs of breath coming from slightly parted lips, and Louis never wants to leave him.

He sleeps happily.

Whatever it is that Harry has done has made the hauntings stop and Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been more thankful for anything in his entire life. And yet, something in the pit of his stomach doesn’t settle right when he thinks about the other man leaving, as if he was a ghost too, only here for a short period of time before he’s to leave forever.

He stares at the roof of his room that evening, unsure of how to place a word on the thoughts that swarm through his head at a speed he is unfamiliar with. He’s never felt anything even similar to this, to the jittery feeling that manifests in his stomach relentlessly when he thinks of the curly haired man. Nothing like this has ever happened in his life and he’s not sure what he’s meant to call it, how he’s meant to identify this feeling.

He knows Harry is set to leave this evening, to return to his own life miles and miles away. He wants nothing more than for Harry to say he’ll stay, than for him to say they could be more than this, but it’s too fast, too soon.

And yet, it doesn’t fail to make him sad. It’s barely been any time at all since Harry first arrived, and yet it almost feels like there’s been a schedule created for him now, a routine that he feels comfortable with. That he doesn't’ want to lose.

It’s unorthodox and improper, but he already knows what he wants.

He doesn’t sleep that night, instead he just tries to keep himself from worrying about what is to come.

Harry stands in Louis’ room the next morning with a frown, and Louis can’t describe what he feels. The sun is just peaking over the horizon, and nothing feels right.

“I suppose this is goodbye, then, Louis.” Harry says softly, a shake to his voice that Louis feels in his own heart as well. He almost feels on the verge of tears, unsure of what he’s meant to say. It’s been just a short span of seven days with this man at his side – and yet he doesn’t want to let go. It’s selfish in a way he’s never been and wrong in ways he can’t think of, but he doesn’t want to let go.

He’s not entirely sure he can, really.

“It doesn’t have to be.” He says, voice barely above a whisper.

“It must be.” Is Harry’s response, and a pain blossoms in Louis’ chest that doesn’t belong. “But not forever, if you so wish my return.”

“I do.”

“Then I will be back, my prince.”

“I will write to you when I wish to see you again.”

“Should I expect this soon?”

“Within the week.” Louis says, voice just above a whisper, before he presses his lips against Harry's softly.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this doesn't feel entirely too rushed or fast, as I decided to scrap my last fic I wrote for one of your prompts and restart last moment. 
> 
> Lots of love to my wife [Cristal](http://louissweetchristmas.tumblr.com/) who helped me get some inspiration for this fic.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading – and if you _really_ enjoyed this story and want to support your local fanfic author, you can   
> [](https://ko-fi.com/A237HRB)


End file.
